What Its Like
by Troonye
Summary: I am just so excited for season eight I felt like writing for it c; Wincesssssst


Hi everyone c:  
This was just a silly billy idea of mine… Um, if you haven't read the spoilers about season eight of Supernatural, well, I don't know you should read this. I know not even one episode for season eight has aired, but I just felt like I should write this anyways.. From what I have read, it seems like this will be a season where Destiel is easier to find then Wincest, so I am gonna put some Wincest out there just to start the season off c;  
And noooo, I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters. Cool if I did though, right? :3

Embraced by the shadows, Dean sat in the corner of the room washed over by emotion, numb, an untouched beer on the table. In his hand he held the keys to the Impala. His guideline to reality. He held them in his hand. He held them. His fingers slid over them, reading the silent stories they told. While they comforted him, kept him stable, they also evoked memories laced with bittersweet feelings. He shook slightly. Remembering. Love. Pain. Forgiveness. Loss.

From the shadows he glanced to the light, to where he could see Sam. Sam was happy. So very very happy. Happy happy happy happy. So happy he no longer was happy with Dean. He was happy with Amelia. Happy.

A crooked smile fluttered on Dean's face, twisting his features. It darkened his eyes. His eyes a window to his mind. As clear as day his thoughts were expressed to the world. Filled with pain. Only pain.

If Sam was happy, Dean must be happy. Because Sam was his… His brother. And brothers are happy for each other. Sam had found a significant other. Editing he thoughts, Dean revised; Sam had found a _new _significant other. A functional significant other. Sam could show this other off to the world without shame. Sam would finally have his own to protect, instead of being the protected. Amelia. Amelia was normal. She had normal problems. Normal tragedies in her life, giving her normal traumas. She didn't go to Hell. She didn't go to Purgatory. She saved Sam's dog. She was not masculine and rough; she was soft and pretty. She was just what Sam always wanted.

Dean clenched the keys tighter, feeling them dig into his skin.

A relationship was when two people depended on each other more than they depended on anyone else. When one was in danger, the other saved them. And vice versa. They stood by each other's sides through thick and thin. No matter what the situation was, they always kept the other one standing, kept them going to face another day. In a room of strangers, they singled the other one out and felt safe. Just to know the other was there for them.

And now Sam and Amelia were in a relationship. Sam lived for her. Breathed for her. Fought for her. She was the most important person in his life. And now Dean was number two.

It seems that decades of being together didn't matter to Sammy. Their relationship had always been too mysterious. Too complicated, too raw. Sometimes, most of the time, it didn't even seem like they were brothers.

They had always had to be together. And if they weren't, they always found their way back to each other. From Ruby to Lisa to Hell to death do they not part. They were never together together, but it had been close enough. Dean never thought that the physical aspect mattered. They were close enough mentally that it didn't matter.

But then Amelia came. Dean was stuck in Purgatory; he couldn't even fight her oncoming presence. After he met her, Sam could care less if Dean made his way back. Well. Dean assumed that was what Sam was thinking. It didn't matter now though.

As his hands were carved by the stories the keys shared, Dean's mind was lost in a whirlwind. Heartache. Sam and Dean had been an unit. If you got Sam, you got Dean. And vice versa. But it seemed things had changed. The unbreakable twine that had held them so solidly together was beginning to unravel. Unravel. Unravel. Until all that was left was two men, who were brothers. Nothing more. Nothing less.

As Sam and Amelia got up, Sam called to Dean. Dean stayed in his place, but threw the keys to Sam so he could go back without him.

As Sam looked at the keys, looking at the metal tinted with blood, he wished he could tell Dean. He wished he could tell Dean he really wasn't as happy as everyone thought.


End file.
